The North Star

by Wendy Cole

  I looked up at him. “Wait…really?”

  He grunted one last time before he turned and headed stiffly and heavily towards the door. When he opened it, Bard was right on the other side.

  The two men eyed each other, then Bard watched him walk down the steps and didn’t stop until his car was well out of sight.

  When he turned back to me, he didn’t speak, didn’t make a sound. He swung the door shut, his expression determined, and his legs moved with swift purpose towards me.

  I held my breath, frozen in place.

  The minute I was within reach, his arms shot out and pulled me into him. “The next time I say run, you run.”

  I didn’t get a chance to respond because the second my lips parted for an answer, Bard claimed my mouth with his.

  His chest rumbled as he reached down and yanked my legs up and around his waist.

  I was lost.

  Bard carried me towards the sofa as he kissed me urgently.

  For a split second, I’d almost lost him. I’d almost lost any chance at a future at all. He could have died if things had been different, and I knew…I would have lived. He would have made me live with the knowledge that he’d saved me, sacrificed for me, and the regret that I’d never allowed myself this moment or any other that could have been.

  “Tell me to stop, and I will,” he rumbled against my lips. “But do it now, Tequila. I’m hanging on by a thread.”

  Tell me to stop, and I will.

  That was all it took.

  His kiss. Those words.

  My wall didn’t crumble. It opened. It invited him inside and closed the gate firmly shut behind him.

  “I’m done wasting time, Bard.” I kissed him back, ran my hands into his hair and pulled him closer.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR

  Bard kept me held to him with my legs securely wrapped around his waist and his lips locked with mine. Everything about it, about him, it was so much more than I’d thought it would be, more than I ever imagined.

  I couldn’t fight it—these feelings, him—not anymore.

  Long silken strands felt like heaven between my fingers as I gripped his hair, held him to me, and accepted him and everything that he had to offer.

  All my life.

  I’d never had anything good.

  All the years of loneliness, all the suffering, all the pain.

  Enough.

  For once in my life, I wanted something real, meaningful, and honest.

  Bard was all those things.

  Bard was so much more.

  My mind cleared. My spirit was freed, and the battle to keep away ceased to exist.

  Bard was mine, and I was going to let myself have him.

  I kissed him back with urgency, gripped him tighter, pulled, and demanded.

  “Bedroom,” I murmured. I was ready. I was more than ready, so fucking ready.

  Bard groaned, and his fingers curled tighter against my legs as he shifted course away from the couch and headed towards the back.

  When he broke the kiss to open the door, I gave in to temptations that had been swirling through my head since the day I met him.

  My mouth explored his jaw, his neck—everywhere. I bit, kissed, and tasted. He was like a fucking drug, and each inch I allowed myself to go only made me want to go further.

  “Dammit, Tequila,” Bard groaned. He stumbled through the door, barely catching his balance, then quickened his pace towards the bed.

  He flopped us to the mattress without releasing his hold, then recaptured my mouth with his. Rough hands moved with purpose. They wandered over every inch of me from my shoulders to my arms, the curve of my waist. They gripped and pulled at the material of my shirt, then slid under to run across the smooth skin.

  “Tell me you’re sure,” he said, his voice tight and mouth breaking away to run open-mouth kisses across my jaw line.

  “This is the first time I’ve ever been sure,” I whispered, and it was true. Bard would never hurt me. The realization shocked and freed at the same time. Bard wasn’t dangerous.

  Bard was the safest place I’d ever been.

  His chest rumbled. It was a deep vibration that almost sounded grateful, and his mouth found mine again and hovered just above. His tongue ran along my bottom lip as his hand pushed deeper under my shirt and cupped my breast. He sucked in a breath.

  I couldn’t breathe. It was as if I was in a cyclone, surrounded by nothing but whipping sensations and need, held centered by the weight of the man above me.

  I ran my hands down his back and lightly bit his bottom lip. Each of us taking. Each of us giving. We were two people joining as one.

  I pulled at his shirt, and Bard lifted his arms high enough to allow it to be pulled away. He dropped back down and kissed me gently.

  When he started to do the same to mine, I stiffened.

  The scars, my scars.

  He’d seen them before, but that didn’t make it any better. I didn’t want to be…damaged. I didn’t want to be broken.

  They’d tarnish everything.

  Bard paused and met my gaze and his eyes once again sharpened. He read me like the lines of a poem, and with a painfully slow speed, he finished lifting the material away. He didn’t look down. His eyes stayed locked with mine. “You’re beautiful, Jessie.”

  My throat constricted. My heart clenched. It was too much.

  He dropped the shirt to the side of him. “You’re beautiful.”

  Tears pricked at the corners of my eyes, but I held them back.

  He pulled back, his eyes still soft and glued to mine. His movements were slow and careful, warm and reassuring.

  My muscles tensed, and I held my breath.

  He kissed me again, soft and fleeting, then leaned back and clutched my shoulder. I let him turn me as I squeezed my eyes shut and buried my face into the quilt. I didn’t want to see it, his reaction; his disgust. It would break me.

  Bard was quiet for a long moment, and I could imagine it. I’d been an idiot. He was amazing, the most gorgeous man I’d ever laid eyes on. He could have anyone, beautiful women; women like Amber.

  This was a mistake.

  I started to move, to run, to cover myself and go lick my wounds, but Bard laid a hand against my back and gently pushed me back down.

  “You’re beautiful.” He leaned over me and pressed his lips to my shoulder blade and down my spine. No hesitation. No pause. He kissed each inch of ravaged skin as if he could heal the damage done there.

  I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I fell. A sob broke free, and the moment it did, Bard gathered me up and turned me back to face him.

  He held me tight and peppered his lips across my cheeks, removing each tear that managed to escape.

  “You make me want to rewrite it,” he said, reminding me of the conversation we had long before. “Let me make you forget.”

  Another sob lodged into my throat, but I swallowed it; buried it deep with the others.

  “I want to forget.”

  Bard studied me for a moment, his eyes trailing my face as if memorizing. When his lips met mine again, it was different. It was sweeter and full of emotion. He possessed me and took me away from my own thoughts and dominated my focus.

  In that moment, I knew. He was it, and even if I crashed and burned, even if I lived to regret it, it didn’t matter. I didn’t care. He was worth the risk. Slowly, I reached back, unclipped my bra and threw it to the side.

  Bard sucked in a breath and kissed me harder. His hand lifted and cupped the newly exposed flesh, and the muscles in his shoulders coiled. He hummed low in his throat, and it sounded so soulful like a song that made me want to sigh.

  I fumbled with the button on my jeans until Bard reached down between us and did it for me. He broke away, eyes trailing my body as he maneuvered them down my hips. He swallowed hard. “I’ve never felt as blessed as I do right now.”

  I didn’t shy away. I waited, letting him see me, pushing aside every self-conscious thought that trie
d to enter my mind. He sat back and palmed my ribs, then ran his hands slowly down, all the way to my ankles and up again. He cupped my calves, then gripped my hips.

  My blood pressure rose. My heart thundered. Each touch stole my breath and awakened my senses. It was so intense. It was so much more.

  He drove me to insanity. He took his time, too much of it. I reached up and gripped his waistband, fumbled with the button, and his body jerked as he watched me struggle. When I finally got it undone, Bard kicked the denim off the rest of the way and leaned forward.

  My chest heaved in time with his. Smooth skin and toned muscle stretched against mine like the world’s most perfect blanket. It wrapped me in security and warmed the cold that had soaked my bones for too long.

  “I’ve never wanted anything more than I want this.” He settled himself between my legs, caressed my cheek, then pressed his lips to mine with an impossible tenderness.

  It moved me—this man, his kiss, all of it.

  I was found.

  The kiss deepened, taking with it any doubt. There was no room for it. It was just me and him. Without breaking the contact, Bard slid his hand between us and caressed the most sensitive part of me.

  A soft moan escaped my throat which earned a rough sound in return from him.

  “That sound you make…” He exhaled a breath and moved his hand to make me moan again. “I’m never gonna let you go, Tequila.”

  He dipped lower, and a fire built inside of me. Each move of his hand stoked the flames until they threatened to burn me alive.

  “You’re the one for me.” He kissed me hard, then broke away to do the same to my jaw and my neck. “I know how to take care of what’s mine.”

  Another moan. The pressure mounted. It was so soon, so quick—just like that. Like everything else when it came to Bard, this was so much more.

  He moved to my breast and wrapped that perfect mouth around my nipple. His teeth followed as he bit down gently. My whole body arched.

  “Bard.” It was a breath, barely intelligible. I couldn’t think. He’d taken my brain and focused it solely on him. I was putty, a trembling mess. I was squirming to get closer to him, begging to be molded.

  Bard rumbled and repositioned himself. I could feel him right there, so close, and my body was screaming for him to continue.

  His lips met mine as his arm wrapped behind my lower back and lifted me.

  Everything―my life, the club, Drake, prison, the bar, meeting Zeke, the job―it led up to this, to meeting this man, to Bard.

  This is where I was meant to be.

  Karma wasn’t a bitch.

  Karma just had a fucked-up way of guiding me.

  And in that moment, when Bard’s hips moved forward and joined me to him in a way that touched that part of me that had long ago died…

  I forgave her.

  CHAPTER FORTY-FIVE

  Warm. I’d never been so perfectly warm and comfortable. A soft pressure started at my hairline and slowly worked its way through my hair, only to disappear and return where it started. It tingled my scalp and sunk me deeper into the calm. I snuggled closer and felt smooth skin and dusts of hair against my cheek.

  The touch left my hair and a large arm curled around and pulled me closer. I cracked an eye open and leaned back enough to see Bard’s face.

  A smile curved his mouth, and his chest expanded on a heavy breath. “Good morning, Tequila.”

  The sun shone bright through the window behind the bed, and I felt like I’d slept for days. “What time is it?”

  Bard lifted one shoulder. “Don’t really care.”

  I flopped back down to the pillow and took in the naked chest and shoulders poking above the blanket then my own lack of clothing.

  I jumped off the cliff.

  This was the bottom.

  It was nicer than I’d thought it would be.

  “We’re not training?”

  Bard shook his head. “I thought we’d take a day off. You’ve earned it.” He propped his head onto his hand and looked down at me. “How do you feel about getting away from this cabin for a while?”

  “You mean into town?”

  He jerked his head to the window. “No. I mean further out.”

  “Like camping?”

  “Yeah.” His lip twitched again, and his eyes softened. They didn’t cut, or search, or probe. They absorbed and ran over my face with a sense of the same warmth surrounding me.

  I swallowed hard. Drake had never looked at me like that. Drake had never caressed my hair while I slept.

  “I mean…sure. I guess. If you want to.”

  I was falling. I could feel the wind whipping up around me. I could see the shards of jagged rock below. I was falling fast and hard, and I wasn’t sure there was anything to grab a hold of to stop myself. I needed to stop myself. I wanted him. I took him. I was more than ready to have him again, but I couldn’t let myself get too attached. I had to keep something of myself. I had to keep something to protect me when things changed.

  I couldn’t be naïve.

  Never again.

  Bard smiled and rolled off the mattress. I stared at his back, all of his back, and watched as he snatched his jeans from the floor and pulled them on. He turned back, bare chested and barefoot. The button of his pants was far too low on his waist.

  I was falling.

  “I’ll let you get cleaned up and dressed. Pack a couple changes of clothes, and I’ll take care of the rest.”

  I nodded because it was the only response I could come up with. When he walked out of the room, I released a shaky breath and clutched my hair.

  I was a fucking idiot.

  A satisfied idiot, inner Jessie added.

  I bit my lip. Everything about the night before had been perfect. Bard had been perfect. For a long, long time, he doted on me. He’d been generous. He’d caressed and held and murmured words too sweet for any man to form. Drake had never been so attentive, even in the beginning.

  We didn’t have sex.

  My eyes widened.

  Bard made love to me.

  I stood in a daze, grabbed my bag, then set about throwing clothes into it.

  Now he was taking me into the wilderness. He would show me more stars, probably other things too. He would make it really hard not to lo-like him.

  I zipped the bag and bundled a set of clothes to wear against my chest. The vision of Bard standing in a field, calling to the wildlife with his rich smooth tone and conjuring the wind with a graceful move of his arm popped in my mind.

  You’re being excessive.

  I was, but it felt like he could. It felt like I’d found myself trapped in the middle of nowhere with a man set on stealing what I’d only just gotten back from the last asshole. Only, this one was better. This one was more.

  I peeked out the door to see if the hall was clear then slipped my way into the bathroom. The shower I took was much longer than necessary, and my thoughts wouldn’t stop drifting. Each time I’d notice some huge difference, I’d pause to linger on it, then I’d panic again at what it meant.

  I wasn’t sore. There were no bruises, aches and pain. I didn’t have finger marks on my arms or thighs. There were no scratches or tender spots across my scalp where my hair had been pulled too hard.

  Bard was so much larger, so much stronger and wilder. One look at him would be enough to make anyone think twice about challenging him. I’d seen him angry. I’d seen those hands take a man and beat him half to death. I’d seen him slam a man like Boe against the wall without so much as straining.

  Yet, he’d been so gentle.

  I dressed in the jeans and shirt I’d left out and took a deep breath. I needed to get it together. I needed to keep a clear head. I was overthinking it. It was just sex. Just really good sex.

  A soft tap sounded against the door. “You alright, Tequila?”

  I pulled it open and tried to smile. “All set. Just let me grab my shoes.”

  Bard studied my face as if he cou
ld read every thought I’d had for the past hour, but he didn’t make a comment.

  “Here.” He handed me a granola bar. “I figured we’d skip a big breakfast since I plan to have us hike a ways. But I’ve got some plans for lunch when we get there.”

  I took the bar and nodded. “Sounds good.”

  He stepped back to allow me through, then took the duffle from my hand as I passed. “I’ll carry it.”

  I smiled again, nodded, then all but ran for the living room.

  I sat in the chair and laced up my boots all the while feeling the warmth of his gaze on my profile.

  “You sure you’re okay?”

  I looked over at him, at his cutting eyes and furrowed brow. It wasn’t his fault. He’d been the…best, and I was punishing him for it. He didn’t understand that I was emotionally unavailable. He couldn’t have known that by being sweet, he’d unknowingly scare the hell out of me.

  “I’m fine, Bard.” I smiled at him, and it was a real one.

  His shoulders relaxed, but his eyes still held reluctance. “I didn’t…” He paused and cleared his throat. “I wasn’t too rough, was I?”

  I barked a laugh and shook my head. “No, Bard.” I smiled to myself, finished lacing my shoes, then stood and walked over to him.

  He watched me approach, silent as the day I’d met him, eyes just as sharp and searching once again.

  I laid a hand across his chest, took note of the pace of his racing heart, then sighed. “You were too good.”

  For a fleeting second, surprise coated his face, but no sooner did it happen, it disappeared. His lip twitched. “Too good?”

  “Yes. Too good.” I narrowed my eyes at him. “Too good at talking. Too good-looking. Too good at sex.”

  “These are complaints?” His lips curved, and his eyes danced.

  “Yes. They are.” I pushed aside the little voice that alerted me that I sounded crazy.

  Bard rumbled a laugh and shook his head. “Alright. I apologize. I’ll try to work on that.” He walked over and snatched a pack propped against the wall, then motioned with his head for me to follow. “C’mon, Tequila. It’s going to take a while to get where we’re going.”